He was dressed all in brown, with a nest under his hat, and he held a tall staff, and had a beard full of scat.

A worthy wizard is he, but his thoughts are a buzzin’ ‘Twas Radagast the Brown, my good ol’ cousin.

(My intent was to post this at a more timely moment between The Hobbit’s release and Christmas, but real life got busy, as it tends to do at that time of year. Also, I began putting this together back when we expected the moth would in some way be connected to Radagast. I still like that concept, and decided not to change that part. So despite it being a little less relevant now, I hope you guys enjoyed my meager attempt at humor!)

There it is: dwarves are not heroes, but calculating folk with a great idea of the value of money; some are tricky and treacherous and pretty bad lots; some are not, but are decent enough people like Thorin and Company, if you don't expect too much.

"On February 1 [1913], latitude 64° 15´ S. and longitude 159° 15´ E., we coasted along one side of a[n] [ice]berg which was twenty-one geographical miles long: the only other side of which we got a good view stretched away until lost below the horizon."